Guerilla

Guerilla

“Everybody uses you in one way or another.”

This was the stench of sheer unadulterated warfare. Bodies of dead rebels and soldiers littered the battlefield. The aura of this place intrigued me.. Even though I had been groomed since I was a child. This experience was all too real… There were no training dummies or drills taking place, no generals or lieutenants howling down on young reluctant rebels . I couldn’t believe my eyes… I wasn’t ready for this type of scenario… sure we always had prepared for this day but this encounter was much more surreal... yet I was drawn to it, blood rushing , heart pulsating like never before while anxiety and fervor took hold of me violently. Before I realized I was already rushing into battle and losing myself within my own compulsiveness, Soon I had become the hero of the battlefield. Eyes fixated on the conqueror I had become. With each slash, stab, penetration I had begun to lose myself eventually into a dream I found to be pleasant. I wanted more , war cries became a melody, blood an exotic beauty, death as if it had been made just for me. That all too pleasant dream? A nightmare. Me a conqueror? Loser. Hero? Vigilante. I had lost myself in a battle and found myself in the abyss. Finally sentient and conscious when it was too late. I had not only killed our enemies… I had also killed my brethren as well. My friends, mentors, family. This truth I could not accept… rationalize… I’m not sure what happened after that. I awoke in a stranger's home “Guerilla” he called me.

Chapter 1

“Guerilla?” I murmured as I wiped the coal from my eyes and positioned myself attentively. The man gave an almost aggravated look as though he felt I was being ungrateful in some way.

The man then said, “Well… my name is Brock and I’ve been assigned your partner from this point on” Brock happened to be an average height teenager wearing a dark colored trench coat with a hoodie underneath and burgundy cargo pants with combat boots.

“Partners?” I exclaimed. Brock replied with a sigh “yes… if you're going to act this slow all the time I can’t work with you. Now get your gear on and meet me outside.” As Brock left I sat upright on the cot I had been sleeping on. The room was about the size of a modern day dormitory used for college students back before the retreat to rural grounds. The room was very dim and only lit by natural lighting, and it operated much like a prison cell, only slightly more inviting, however this gave me a sense of relief as their camp had been much more advanced than ours. The gear that was laid out for me had also been very advanced, it wasn’t like anything I had seen before. Older models with highly futuristic features that still remained simplistic. I started the gear from top to bottom. A shroud made out of some weird fabric. Soft to the touch but tensed up as I applied pressure to it. This must be resilient to blades I thought. Next was a one piece jumper that doubled as a tunic with various Velcro pieces attached to it. As I slipped my arms into the jumper, I could feel multiple things happening. The jumper tailored itself to me. Configuring and calibrating itself to my height, weight and build. As my arms slipped through I could feel the cold metal from the vambraces built into the sleeves of the bodysuit grip my wrists and forearms snugly. Same thing with the legs as well, greaves implanted into the fabric as well bracers for my calves. This was basically an exosuit but how could it still be so comfortable and non-restricting? Disappointingly, the combat boots were regular. Next I moved on to my weapons and equipment. With one look I could tell what the Velcro was used for. They had given me throwing knives , a variety of grenades and lastly two large sickle blades that could all be attached to my suit via Velcro. The large sickle blades went on the back of my suit, Throwing knives across my chest and the grenades on my waist.

I wasted no time, As I went outside I was able to see a very expansive landscape to say the least. This huge complex was running through the veins of a valley. Gigantic transparent tube shaped elevators along the walls of the valley distancing each other by at least twelve hundred feet or so, additionally Ziplines at the top of the valleys that you could use to get into certain districts of the complex. Buildings built into hillsides and inner workings of caves. The mercenary headquarters had become one with the valley.

I saw Brock and I could now vividly see that his clothes were gear as well. His hood had mini binoculars attached to them, Many weapon attachments tied into his trench coat and a large bowie knife attached to his upper thigh. Lastly, he had some sort of huge bolt action sniper. Unfortunately for me before I could get a clean look at it Brock shouted out “What the hell are you staring at… creep.” “Oh, nothing,” I replied. Brock continued on with a sigh “C'mon lets get going…to see the King” As he walked hastily through the complex Brock said “this is the residential district.” ,

I could see that the very area was alive. Everything seemed to be automated. Mini minecarts deliver mail throughout the complex on a tiny rail system, garbage chutes in the ground, and a central message board that is interactive with the area and the surrounding community. On the other hand, there were horse stables for travel, hydro wheels for electricity production and artificial canals and ditches instead of alternatives like sewer systems and sprinklers. Another thing I noticed off the bat was the fact that there were very close knit groups within the community regardless of how they looked .

Before I could ask, Brock already began to explain that the compound had been run by factions, called families. “Your family is determined from your strengths you show when you are younger. So basically, if you were really good with ranged weapons you’d be with archers, good with close ranged weapons? You’d be with more of a melee crowd and so on.” Brock continued on “Sounds brutal doesn’t it?” I nodded along, he chuckled then quickly replied “You still get to spend time with your real family” He said with a reassuring grin. “I don’t have a family” I replied as confidently as I could. “Oh…” Brock’s grin transformed into a dispirited look. I wanted to reassure him in some way but I realized that I was right after all and was better off alone. “Anyway there are also sub divisions that really get in depth as well based on all sorts of things.” I wondered what he meant by that.

As we moved into the Market/Agriculture District the entire aura changed. The Residential District had this serious and almost gloomy vibe to it, meanwhile, this district was… inviting to say the least. The merchants had old wooden tent stands and they were sectioned down a large avenue. In this section the culture here seemed to be very diverse. people having fun, playing games , dancing to various types of music , and endless transactions taking place. This area was animated, spirited and lively. Different smells, tastes, and foods of damn near every culture. How could all the people get along so well?

Before I realized I had a huge smile on my face, again Brock noticed and teased “Finally acting human huh?” I then noticed as well and found myself opening up to Brock. “Yea this is… amazing, this strangely reminds of a place someone used to tell me stories about it’s called New York City” “Ah.” Brock exclaimed “The city that never sleeps, you know that place really used to exist right?” I chuckled as my eyes lit up. “I thought those were just fables” Brock replied “Nope… before all the warfare and world issues a lot of cool places existed.” Brock began looking bashful and reserved after he said that. I decided it was best not to pry.

We continued walking on and as we headed out I could see large fields of various crops and industrial machinery. I could see they did not waste any of the fertile land. From small motorized robots who just cut down stalks of sugarcane or corn to large industrial machines that remove weeds or till soil for crops... they had it all but they still chose to harvest crops manually and replant them manually. The farm had also been surrounded by huge fencing about 9 feet or so. As I looked along the walls here I noticed there had only been four elevators, two at the north east and north west entrances of the farm and the two others at the south west and east entrances to the farm. There had also been no ziplines but there seemed to be a huge safety net hanging over the entire farm as if it was a chandelier over a huge dinner table.

I turned to Brock and asked “ hey, why is that safety net there?” Brock replied “ Since this area is used only for harvest and reseeding periods people aren’t here to monitor it regularly. Beforehand, the crops would get trampled so the safety net is there to catch anyone who falls into the valley from trampling crops. The net also doubles as a sprinkler system as well.” “Ah” I replied and we decided to keep walking on from there.

Finally as we walked into the Military Forces & Training district, I felt at home. This place had been huge and had been in the deepest portion of the valley. It contained everything a military base needed while also being very compact, it was impressive to say the least. All the things taking place within the district reminded me of my very existence.. Mercenaries training on dummies, doing drills, those same superiors howling down on reluctant soldiers. Faces of those friends I remembered took shape on these people’s faces instead of their own identities. This brought a very nostalgic and warm feeling into me. Suddenly I felt an object that had been contained in my overalls. It had been a heart-shaped locket with the name “Guerilla” inscribed across the golden exterior of the locket.

Brock, surprised, exclaimed “What’s That?.” as I clicked the small button on the top of the trinket to reveal what had been inside. The locket contained a picture of a couple and a child in the center. Unamused, I brushed it off as nothing until Brock, who had been examining the photo closer than me said “Hey isn’t that you? "That's when all the trauma had hit me at once. Soon after, memories of what I did..to my friends, family and superiors began flashing and a crippling headache soon took over me, bringing me to my knees. This headache hadn’t felt normal at all. Memories flooding into my head, feeling they had been implanted there rather than rediscovered. As if they had been engraved into my head once more, burning it there as my sin so I’d never forget it.